


Some Things Can't Be Killed

by cacreety



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Ami (oc) - Freeform, Animal Death, Bella (OC) - Freeform, F/F, Magic, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, Zeka (oc), death mention, i warned you about them mines, shovels lots of shovels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-03-25 23:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13845564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacreety/pseuds/cacreety
Summary: Years after the incident in the mines, Mae and Bea have settled down and now have a kid of their own. However, as autumn approaches, their domestic peace is shattered--old horrors are being reawakened, strangers are poking about the abandoned mines, and Mae's young daughter is ensnared in a cultist plot.(Thanks to t3f3r for letting me torment her MaexBea family!)





	1. Of Pretzels and Shovels

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at an actual multi-chapter fic! Let's hope I can keep this up!

The setting sun cast shades of fiery red over the quiet town, an illusory wildfire spreading through the trees. Years had passed since the horrors of the mines, but as the last licks of flame disappeared below the horizon a new evil was beginning to stir.

\--

“It was like a nightmare, but it—it felt so _real—_ HEY, BEA! Bea, are you listening?

Bea paused her coffee-making to sigh, “Yes, Mae,” she said, picking up a mug, “a strange, decomposing, woman accosted you from beyond the veil, trying to sell you a Rubik’s Cube in exchange for our daughter’s immortal soul.”

“Yes! Wait…no! ugh! Maybe it was a Bop-It…I can’t remember,” Mae dragged her hands down her face, groaning, “it was a real nightmare, though, I tell you. A real-mare!”

“Mae, that isn’t a word.”

“It is now!”

“Besides, those creeps are all gone. We accidently, well, _murdered_ them years ago,” Bea poured some coffee into the mug and set it in front of Mae, “you’re probably just stressing over Casey starting school, and its manifesting as bizarre-o dreams.”

“Yeah…Maybe you’re right,” Mae agreed half-heartedly, staring into the black liquid in front of her. The past few weeks had been hectic, filled with school shopping, registration form nonsense, and the every-growing worry Casey wouldn’t fit in. Yet, the vividness of the strange dream had planted a niggling seed in the back of Mae’s mind. It was true that the mines had collapsed, trapping (and crushing) the cultists inside, and that it was impossible for anyone to have survived down there for all these years; but the _thing_ they had worshipped…surely a few giant falling rocks couldn’t have killed it. Trapped it, definitely, but not killed it. That was, of course, assuming it had even been _real_ in the first place, seeing as apparently no-one else had heard that strange voice, and seen that strange apparition. _Ugh, this is giving me a headache…_ Mae squinted, willing the coffee to impart to her all life’s answers, _I should just forget about it. Not the first time weird shit’s invaded my dreams, after all._

\--

“You all ready for your first day of school, Casey?” Bea fiddled with the straps of a small yellow backpack attached to a wriggling kitten, trying in vain to adjust them properly.

“Yeah!” Casey exclaimed, escaping Bea’s hovering to twirl in a circle. Autumn had come early to Possum Springs, and she giggled as her twirling stirred up the freshly fallen leaves. “D’you think I’m gonna make lotsa friends?” she turned back to her parents, with an expression comically thoughtful for such a young child.

“Oh, yeah! They’re gonna love you! Trust me, you’re gonna be beating off friends-to-be with a stick!” Mae assured her, assuming an all-knowing hands-on-hips stance.

“You really think so?”

“Are you questioning my adult-y wisdom, young lady?”

“No!” Casey beamed, and tossed her hands in the air, giggling. Behind them, the school bell rang, signalling the start of the school day. Enthusiastically, Casey ran off the join the throng of children moving towards the school doors. “Bye, Moms! Bye!” she waved back to Mae and Bea

“Jeez, _I_ was never _that_ excited to go to school,” Mae grinned at Bea, “must get it from you, nerd-odile, hehe.”

“Oh, shut it,” Bea chuckled, “let’s just go open up the Pickaxe before we have a riot on our hands.”

\--

At the Ol’ Pickaxe the riot Bea had mentioned was already underway. That is, if tumbleweeds had the physical and cognitive capabilities to riot. After clearing the offending balls of plant-matter away from the front door, and opening the shop, Mae and Bea set about their routine work. Apart from the delivery of a new shipment of nails, the Pickaxe remained quiet well until mid-day. So quiet, in fact, that while Bea was balancing inventory sheets in the back, Mae was falling asleep at the front desk.

 However, just as Mae was entering a dream full of glorious, warm, salty pretzels, the sound of rattling and of multiple somethings being placed on the counter abruptly ended her drowsing. “Huh…wha?” Mae blinked blearily and sat upright. Gradually, several shovels came into focus, as well as the customer on the other side of the counter. First came the red plaid over shirt, then the face of a gray wolf and long black hair.

“Good dream?” she asked.

“Uh, what?”

“You were drooling.”

“I was not!” Mae hurriedly rubbed her face, smoothing down the drool-matted fur. “Anyways,” she cleared her throat, desperate to regain some dignity, “Is this, uh…all?” The shovels, approximately seven in total, had all come from the gardening section of the store. It would be a lie to say that Mae didn’t find this purchase a little odd, but who was she to judge other people’s shovel consumption.

“Sure is,” the grey wolf dug a handful of bills out of her jeans pockets and slapped them on the counter, “this should about cover it.”

_Goddamn it…._ Mae stared at the small pile of bills on the counter before collecting them, _she couldn’t have paid with a card? Who buys a bunch of shovels with cash? Now I have to count shit._ The register rang and sure enough the wolf had given her the exact amount necessary. “Sooo,” Mae tore off the receipt and handed it over the counter, “that’s a lot of shovels.”

The wolf looked to the ceiling and sighed exasperatedly, as if explaining her shovel purchasing habits was a heavy burden. “Yes,” she replied, gathering her shovels and leaving.


	2. I Had to Google Baseball for This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter really took longer than I wanted to write! Oops! Would've liked it to have been a little longer maybe, but I gotta move on to next one!

_THWACK_

The ball sailed high over the schoolyard, passing under fluffy cumulus clouds, forcing Casey to crane her head backwards to follow it. The ball cleared the schoolyard; behind her came chorus of celebratory hollers and ‘look at it go!’s as the ball flew into the woods, and was swallowed by the dense foliage, on the other side of the fence. The children cheered and joined Casey in the out-field, where she had been playing left-field, “Dude! That’s gotta be a new record or somethin’!” exclaimed a small fawn.

“Yeah, but now someone’s gotta go _get it_ ,” grumbled a sweater-clad fox kit.

“Not me!” a tawny owlet piped, “there’s ticks in there, and my mama said—”

“I’ll go!” Casey volunteered proudly, smacking a fist into her palm, “a search and rescue mission!”

A murmur rippled through the crowd of children. The woods surrounding Possum Springs were often the set of many a cautionary tale, designed to deter children from trouble. Casey’s self-proclaimed mission, the children agreed, was an admirable one indeed. “Okay, but you gotta be back ‘fore recess ends!” the fawn cautioned, “otherwise Mrs. Otterton’ll be real mad!”

“Yeah! And she’ll call your parents!” the owlet added, face scrunched up with worry.

“Don’t worry, guys,” Casey tossed her baseball glove to the ground, and started to scale the chain-link fence separating the woods from the schoolyard, “I’ll be back faster than you can say ‘Possum Springs’!”

\--

Beyond the fence the woods loomed tall. The multi-hued foliage shaded the forest floor, and the air became cool. Here and there patches of scattered sunlight broke through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on fallen trunks. As Casey walked, she found herself gradually forgetting about the ball she had set out to find, awed by the early autumn scene. It was mesmerizing. She’d never been this far into the woods before, away from a clearly defined trail. And certainly, never alone. Behind her, the noises of the schoolyard were gradually fading, muffled by the closing forest.

“Wow, its so pretty,” Casey whispered to herself, eagerly taking in every sight.

“It sure is.”

Casey jumped, startled by the sudden voice, but smiled when she realized its source. “Oh, hi Uncle CC!” she skipped up to a nearby tree and grinned up at the translucent figure perched on one of its low branches, “what’re you doing here?”

“Just checkin’ in, seeing how my fave girl’s first day of school’s going.”

“It’s going great! I already made lots of friends, and we’re playing baseball!

“Speaking of…”

“Huh? Oh!” Casey gasped, simultaneously remembering both her mission and the disciplinary spectre of Mrs. Otterton,“I gotta get the ball!”

-

Bea was finishing up with checking the inventory when the phone rang. She set her clipboard down and reached into her back pocket for her cellphone. _Oh, dear God…_ A knot twisted in her stomach as she read the caller ID; “Possum Springs Elementary”.

“Hello? Bea Santello speaking.”

“Good Morning, Mrs. Santello. This is Mrs. Lyden from Possum Springs Elementary calling. Your daughter, Casey, is missing from class…”

-

It couldn’t have gone far. It had been struck out by a kindergartner, after all. However, try as she might the baseball would not materialize. Casey’s ears drooped and she sat down on a fallen log with a heavy thump. Even Uncle CC’s aerial reconnaissance had proven fruitless. “There’s no way I’m finding the ball,” she sighed glumly, hanging her head in defeat, “I’m a FRAUD. A search and FAILURE-er!”

“Hey, kid, cheer up,” Uncle CC floated down beside her, “it’s a little ball in a big forest, it’s no biggie if you can’t find it. Your pals’ll understand,” he gave her a ghostly, consolatory hair ruffle, earning a small smile from Casey.

“Yeah, there _are_ more balls at school I guess…” she got up from the log with a nudge from Uncle CC, and brushed the dirt and bark bits off the skirt of her dress. Lifting her head, Casey looked up through the gaps in the forest canopy to the crisp, blue sky above. A raven cawed and drifted in circles above the trees. Guided by Uncle CC, Casey picked her way back to the school grounds. The bell had already rung when she came in sight of the chain-link boundary, and the schoolyard was empty.

“Ohhh nooo!” Casey lamented, dashing out of the woods, “I’m late! I’m DEAD! SO DEAD!” She had just reached the fence, and was preparing to scale the chain-link, when she felt something hard and small bump against the side of her foot. She looked down. It was the ball.


	3. If the Intrusive Thoughts are 15 Minutes Late We’re Legally Allowed to Leave

The car ride home was tense and uncomfortable. After pacing the school’s office for what seemed like hours (and had been, in actuality, minutes), Bea had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown by the time Casey had appeared in the doorway, ball in hand, escorted by an irate teacher. That Casey had caused such trouble on her first day of school was a testament, surely, to Mae’s genes. At the time Bea had been too consumed with worry and relief to lecture her daughter, mind fraught with headlines of child abduction and the shadow of earlier years’ horrors. She had simply scooped Casey up and deposited her in the backseat. Now, however, as the old car pulled up to their family home, Bea felt her anger mounting. As well as a growing, frustrated wish that she had never given up on smoking. Parking the car in the driveway, Bea turned and faced Casey.

“What on earth were you thinking?” she hissed, “disappearing like that!”

Casey picked at the skirt of her dress, shamefaced, “I thought I’d be back before the bell rang….”

“Whether or not you came back before the bell doesn’t change anything, Casey. Leaving the school like that was wrong. What if something had happened to you?”

“The other kids knew where I was…”

“Casey,” Bea pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated, “that’s not the point.”

“I mean, they probably could’ve carried me back if I fell ‘n broke a---”

“What I’m saying, is that it is _dangerous_ to run off like that! Not to mention reckless, and irresponsible!”

Hot tears pricked at Casey’s eyes. Part of her wanted to argue, to try to explain how she had thought going after the ball had been the responsible, and even brave, thing to do. That Uncle CC always kept her out of danger. However, the memory of Bea’s worry and her tearful expression when she had walked into the office stopped her. Her chest tightened with guilt. “…I’m sorry, Momma,” she sniffled.

Bea’s anger waned at the sight of her daughter’s tears, “just…don’t do it again. Okay, hon?” Casey nodded, remorseful, and sniffled again. Bea took a deep breath, calming herself. _I doubt she’ll never do it again…it’s Casey after all_ , she thought _, but at least for now_ _she’ll think twice_. _Thrice, hopefully_. With a reassuring smile, she reached back and squeezed Casey’s hand, “let’s go inside.”

\--

                Mae sighed in relief as she hung up the phone. Casey was safe and sound, thank god. When Bea had received the call, informing her that Casey had disappeared from the schoolground, they were both beyond panic. What terrible fate could have befallen their little kitten? And on the first day of school of all things? Bea had rushed out the door, hollering at Mae to please, _please_ watch the store, all the while cursing under her breath in an uncharacteristic loss of composure. Now Mae could finally relax, as her heart gradually stopped trying to tear itself from her ribcage, and sit down.

“God, is this how my parents felt?” she said aloud to the empty store, leaning back in her chair, “kinda feel bad for all that telephone wire jumping now...” The clock on the wall tick-tocked in response. Mae glanced at the hands. How long until she could reasonably head home? She wondered. Did this classify as a family emergency? Extenuating circumstances? All she wanted to do was to see her daughter, to actually physically hold her and confirm to herself that she was indeed there. Not in a ditch, not in a basement chained to a radiator, not in a…mine. Mae sat up and shook her head vigorously, “what the hell, brain!” she growled, “cut that out!”

_He was named Casey too._

“NOPE,” Mae lurched out of her chair, “we are _not_ doing this. Not today. Time to stack some McFuckin’ paint buckets.”

\--

                The radio was playing the same static-y rendition of the Top 40 Charts as it had been all day. The fox impatiently clicked it off; Ed Sheeran crooning over the car’s shot stereos had become insufferable. “This town is a hellhole,” he muttered, surveying the remnants of mining industry as they passed. The town was full of these decrepit buildings and abandoned factories. The town had been prosperous once, that much was clear. There were, of course, many other towns in similar states throughout the region, but this one in particular, he thought, was uniquely depressing. It was if a spectre hung over it, invisible to the residents, while repelling visitors with its subtle menace. The car slowed to a stop, gravel crunching underneath. He turned to his companion.

“Are you sure this is the place, Ami?”

The wolf nodded, “hundred percent. It’s definitely in there, all we have to do is find it.” She opened the car door and closed it with a heavy _thunk_. The fox followed suit.

“Unnerving that it should be this close to the school…” The fox looked about the grounds, confirming the staff and students had left for the day. The elementary school was a red-brick one-story building, with no discerning features, he noted, aside from the drab mural of miners painted on its west wall. The woods began just beyond the far side of the playground.

“ _Hopefully_ it’s coincidence,” Ami popped the trunk of the car and pulled a pair of shovels out, handing one off to Bella.

“Realistically, though…?”

Hefting a backpack onto one shoulder, Ami slammed the trunk door shut. She turned to Bella with a somber expression, “we’d better get digging.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Ed Sheeran, but it's true. You can only hear "Perfect" so many times lol


	4. Marsupial Ball

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon by the time they had found what they were looking for. Ami tossed aside her shovel and brushed the loose dirt away, revealing the bundled mass underneath. Whatever was inside seemed to glow faintly from within its worn burlap encasement. “Bella!” Ami called out across the field. On the other side, she saw Bella jump up from his dig site by the brambles. He hastily crossed the hole-pocked field, nearly tripping in their handiwork despite his best efforts.

“Finally! You found it!” Bella dropped down, joining Ami at her latest hole. He was eager to be done labouring and to take a hot, clean shower.

Ami side-eyed him.

“What exactly is ‘it’ anyways?” Bella regarded the bundle with suspicion, “you never did explain.”

“I told you, it’s a token. A kind of homing device. We destroy it and hopefully it slows her down.” Ami caught Bella’s indignant expression and sighed, “okay, basically, what this is, is a stone or crystal of some sort, acting as an anchor. Combined with material from the area, all bundled up in cloth, it creates a concentration of energy which she can use to ground, or bind, her own to this place,” she explained hurriedly, opening a pocket knife and cutting the twine holding the bundle together, “so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”

She unravelled and discarded the twine. As she unfurled the burlap bundle, a putrid odor began to permeate the air, strengthening with each layer removed. The pair felt their stomachs churn, and Bella wrinkled his nose in disgust, “God, what did she put in there? Roadkill?”

\--

                Evening light shone through the translucent curtains, and into the kitchen where Mae sat at the small corner table. She found herself staring into a mug, just as she had done earlier that morning. The day’s events had left her rattled. After dinner, Casey had been put to bed, and the house was quiet. For once, Mae preferred it that way. It felt like her brain was playing Twister inside her head. Left foot, overwhelming anxiety; right hand, traumas you thought you had repressed.

“Hey, Mae-day. You doing alright?” Bea laid her hand on Mae’s shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine…it’s just been a rough day is all.”

Bea looked at her with concern in her eyes, “I’m here if you need to talk, you know that right?”

Mae managed a smile, “’Course, Bea-bea.”

“Alright. Well, I’m gonna hit the hay early. I can just feel a bitch of a migraine coming on after today.”

“See ya later, alligator,” Mae watched as Bea disappeared around the kitchen corner, the stairs creaking as she made her way to their upstairs bedroom. As the house fell silent again, Mae turned back to her thoughts. There was no need to burden Bea with her irrational anxieties tonight, she thought. It was obvious they were just the by-product of a stressful day and a weird dream. _I probably just need to relax. Binge watch that live-action adaption of Demontower or something. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Good thinking, Mae. Thanks._

\--

Inside the bundle were the decomposing remains of a possum, its body curled around its severed head. The bundles of wilted fennel, tucked around the body, did little to mask the smell of death. Ami grimaced and carefully examined the mutilated corpse; it must’ve been here for around a week, she estimated. Whether it had been found dead or had been killed for this purpose was difficult to determine.

Ami shook her head, _the poor creature_ , she thought. It was a cruel fate. Upon closer inspection, there was a small stone lodged in the possum’s mouth, she noticed—the anchor. The stone emitted a dim glow, and she gently pried it free. Holding it up to the light, the bloody hematite glinted, catching the dying sun’s last crimson rays.

“Why did I have to be right? Christ.” Bella cursed.

\--

The smell of wildfire, sweet and acrid.

Hazy blue smoke. An eerie silence.

Mae’s been here before, in a different time. A life so different than the one she has now; a life that was filled with anxieties and thick, suffocating fears. Shadows stole souls, and shapes meant everything yet nothing all at once. She knew that if she kept walking the fiddler would start his keening melody.

And she did. And he did.

There are stars in the sky, and Mae remembers her grandfather’s stories. The constellations and their celestial tales. Bright beacons glimmering in the black expanse of the universe, slowly, inevitably, dragged towards the centre. Into the black hole.

Black hole…

Black goal…

Black moat…

B̴̻l̴̙͚a͕͇͖̹͎c̟̟̙̬̮͉ͅk҉͉͔ G̥̘̩̖͎o̷̥̻͕̮̠͓aṯ̰͇̪͜----

\---The stars are gone.

The smoke is getting thicker, saturating the air with the acrid stench of a burning town. Melting rubber and bones turned to charcoal. Impenetrable and dark as night. The music doesn’t sound right. No longer a melody, it’s a frantic cacophony.

_A great beast is walking through the sands, and they are climbing into the air, and now they are making a tear…_

The air feels like radio static. Pieces of her are dissolving--little geometric triangles--and joining the noise.

_The sky wasn’t closed and they’re falling from the air. You are returning there._

Mae can see the fire now. It’s inching closer, but she can’t feel the heat. _Snap, crackle, pop_. The town is turning to ash. She thinks she can see eyes between the flames. They look like hers, so she calls out, but the eyes shrivel to dust at the sound of her voice. She can see the particles as they meld into the black smoke and the triangles of her.

The cacophony reaches a crescendo, and the penultimate note strikes a bird from the sky. It’s already dead by the time it hits the ground. Mae watches as it turns to rot before her, its flesh and viscera liquifying. The rest of the world follows its lead.

The screaming instruments have fallen silent now. It doesn’t feel like the same place anymore, but it’s a place she’s been. Just not the place from before. This place is dark. Empty. Hollow. The pieces of her aren’t following gravity anymore; she’s dissolving into geometry in all directions. An undulating voice is whispering inside her head. Unintelligible speech crashing into her senses like breaker waves.

_What you end begins again._

Mae woke on the couch, drenched in a cold sweat. Her chest felt like a vice, her head heavy and fuzzy. The television, the only light source, buzzed with static. It grated on Mae’s ears, and she fumbled for the remote; as she hit the off button her heart caught in her throat. A silhouette in the static. A malignant figure in between the black and white grains, uncomfortably familiar in its malevolence. The remote clattered from her hands. The afterimage flitted through her vision as she frantically groped for the end table lamp. Finding the switch, she clicked it and warm, dim light illuminated the living room. Mae felt a wave of relief wash over her. Nothing to fear in the light. The four walls around her, lined with photographs of her small family, calmed and reassured her. She sat cradling her head in her hands.

 _What the fuck was that about?_ She thought to herself.

Her eyes fell on the photograph frame, which had been unceremoniously tipped over in her dash for light. With care, she set it upright. She studied the image for a moment. Bright, sweet red eyes peeked up at her from a bundle of black fur and pink fabric. A warm smile crept onto her face _…Casey._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, the monthly update.  
> this ones a little longer than usual! cool!
> 
> (it was pointed out to me during proofreading that ami and bella's passage having specific plant and rock details was a lil bit odd if you didn't know they knew what they were looking at. what's obvious to me isn't necessarily the case for readers |D so i guess just a clarification, ami and bella know what they're looking at. it's their job more or less, as we'll see ;3 )


	5. Insincerely Spiralling Wishing Wells

That incident on the first day of school had set the tone for the next week. Each day Casey found herself in another bout of trouble; tardiness, interrupting class, broken objects, and fights. It was far too much turmoil packed into one week, especially for a little girl, and it was not long before it started to wear on her. Every night and every morning Casey increasingly began to dread the next school day and not even Uncle CC and his jokes could cheer her up. She’d lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling, wondering to herself if this is how school was supposed to be. Not fun, not educational. Just painful. If that were the case, she never wanted to go back. There was one silver lining, however. Tomorrow was the class trip to the Historical Society.

\--

“I’ve never been asked to chaperone _anything_ before. This is so weird.” Mae scanned through the itinerary in her hands for the fifth time, “being a parent is weird.”

The lobby of the Historical Society was bustling with activity. Children and teachers milled to and fro, organizing into their assigned groups, but Mae kept Casey’s hand securely in hers. She was anxious about losing her in the crowd. However, Casey seemed eager to get going. Her enthusiasm was a welcome sight after her despondence all week. Casey’s group was scheduled to go to the mining exhibit first, though, which Mae did not expect to be all too thrilling. She allowed herself to be pulled along, towards the group of children gathering at the entrance to the west wing. The tour guide, an old white-tailed doe, introduced herself as Willow. Unfortunately, she did not stop there. She also proceeded to detail her work history at the Historical Society and how the weather was today. If this was a portent of what was to come, Mae felt, this would be a very long day.  

Mae did not retain a single word Willow had said throughout the entire tour. Her head felt like it was devoid of nothing but elevator music, and each long-winded explanation went in one ear and out the other. When the children were released for some free-range learning, Casey announced that see was going to look at the train bridge diorama. Meanwhile, Mae, really needed to just sit down, and so let Casey off to investigate herself. _Man, I thought that would never end_ , Mae sighed and plopped down on a vacant bench. This, however, proved to be a mistake; almost immediately Willow appeared at her side, having obviously scoped out a vulnerable target for the chatting.

“I hope you enjoyed the exhibit,” Willow greeted Mae cheerfully.

Mae suppressed the urge to be facetious. “It was, uh, great. Very…informative. Quiet the turnout.”

“Oh yes! And we’re very glad for it, its so good to see kids interested in the town history!” Willow said, clasping her hooves together. She looked ponderous for a moment, then added, “although, it has had some drawbacks…for instance, we’ve had an increase in, uh, _trespassing_ incidents here and by the old mines.”

Mae shuddered. Any talk about the mines tended to make her uncomfortable, and the idea of people poking around in there only heightened the feeling. Couldn’t people just leave them be? Mae nodded and gave a few ‘oh really’s, but she kept rambling on.

“It’s probably just some kids messing around, but ooh, it’s all rather frustrating. Your aunt has promised to make extra patrols at night, though.”

“Oh. Jeez.” _She just doesn’t stop talking does she,_ thought Mae _,_ as she searched for an escape route.

“At least they’re not spray-painting obscenities everywhere like a couple years ago, that’s one silver lining,” Willow looked thoughtful, and Mae wondered if she knew that she and Gregg had been responsible for that. Hopefully not. That would make things kind of awkward.

“Hey! Look! That guy’s stealing brochures!” Mae pointed urgently behind Willow.

“Huh? Wha-?”

The moment Willow turned her back, Mae absconded.

\---

The tour had been fun, in that ‘puzzles you get to play with while waiting in the dentist’s office’ way. A begrudging, mundane kind of fun. Casey had not envisioned the field trip to be this way, and she felt foolish for having gotten excited. The tour guide, Willow, had had the public speaking skills of a bowl of oatmeal, and glossed over all the cool bits of town history entirely. During one of her presentations, Casey had got a glimpse of Uncle CC pantomiming falling asleep (whether ghosts actually slept or not was a question she’d never pursued), and her snort of laughter had attracted some glares. Now, however, she was free to look around at her own pace. The train bridge diorama had looked worthy of further attention, with its tiny handcrafted miniatures, and Casey fully intended to personally rearrange them to her own tastes. Instead of working and shovelling, they should be having a party.

On her way though, a placard and square box caught her eye. Upon closer examination, the box had a wide funnel shape hole in it, topped with a ramp and coin slot. The placard read: “Wishing Well—Every Cent Goes To The Children’s Ophthalmologic Hospital Foundation!”

“I don’t know what that means, but I like wishing wells!” Casey dug around in her pants pocket for a piece of spare change. Bea had given her a couple dollars for a candy bar before she’d left the house, and she was certain it was still in there somewhere.

Or…maybe not.

She frowned. Beside her, the spectre of Uncle CC pondered how to best remedy his little ward’s predicament. This week had been so full of disappointments for her, couldn’t the universe give her this one damn coin to throw into this big-ass box? He furrowed his brow and stared into the hole. _You know what?_ He thought, reaching his hand in, _she deserves it_. Casey was looking dejectedly into her pockets again when he produced the coin.

“Here ya go, kid.”

“Whoa, where’d you find that?” Casey beamed, taking it from him and turning it over in her hands.

“You know. The floor.” He shrugged. Casey turned back to the wishing well with newfound optimism.

“I wish I didn’t have to go back to school.” She inserted the coin into the slot, sending it rolling down the rail and spiralling into the black hole at the centre of the funnel. A metallic clatter told her the coin had reached the bottom. Would her wish come true? She wondered. She didn’t have a lot of past wishing well experience to draw from.

“I’ve always found these devices fascinating.”

Casey startled and spun around. The voice belonged to a tall, long-muzzled, black canine. A long gray cardigan hung heavily from her thin frame. She looked down at Casey with a polite smile, although Casey would’ve likened it to the grin of a scarecrow.

 “it works through centripetal force,” the woman explained.

Casey scrunched up her face, “what do centipedes have to do with it?”

“Centri _petal_ , dear. Not centipede. It’s the force that draws the coin along its curved path and into the centre.”

“Hey, kiddo, stranger danger, remember?” Uncle CC hovered, arms crossed, beside her, “let’s get back to your mum,” he said, casting a suspicious glance at the woman. Then, for a brief moment, as if she could overhear his and Casey’s conversation, a flicker of annoyance crossed her face. The suggestion of a sideward glance.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Casey nodded, “I gotta go find my mum. Sorry. Bye!” She hurried away from the wishing well, recalling all the Stranger Danger PSAs she’d been subjected to with the force only an over-active imagination could conjure. Uncle CC ushered her back towards the last place they’d seen Mae. Thankfully, she hadn’t gone very far. They found her by the mining infographics, feigning attentive interest.

“Mum! Mum!” Casey grabbed onto Mae’s sleeve, and started to shake it, “you shouldn’t let me wander off! I’m a danger to myself!”

“Whoa, hey kitten,” Mae laughed in surprise, “back already?”

With Casey back with her mother, Uncle CC looked back at the wishing well across the room. The woman was gone, but if he still had physical skin, he would’ve said he felt it crawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit dude i finally updated. i've been sick af for the last couple weeks, and as a result lost all my motivation @@. this was a tough chapter to write, and probably it shows (especially in the beginning...ouch), but here it is!


	6. The Dangers of Maple Leaves

The night after the Historical Society, Casey slept fitfully. She tossed and turned in her sleep, tormented by a nightmare she couldn’t shake. Eyes leered at her from all sides in an impenetrable darkness. The air—musty and thick—felt suffocating, and yet crackled with electricity at the same time. Where she was, up and down, left and right were all indiscernible. She ran but went nowhere. She screamed but could make no sound. Somewhere, from deep within the abyss, a voice sang and hissed in an unintelligible speech.   
\--  
Ami had slept poorly. She had been kept awake by a gnawing sense of anxiety, and the little sleep she had gotten had been interrupted by strange dreams. At five-thirty she had given up trying. There was clearly no point; she would have to get up in just an hour or two anyways. Bella would make sure of that. He was an early riser, and she a light sleeper. It was nearly impossible for her to ignore him in their shared motel room.   
Now she was stuck, rotating between idly looking about the room and at her phone. She would’ve continued like this until Bella woke, and they could go about their day, if her backpack had not started glowing. Pushing back the covers, Ami crawled over and retrieved the bag form the foot of the bed. Once open, it was not hard to see the cause. Removing a small Tupperware container, she looked worriedly at the stone she had retrieved earlier from the clearing—it was glowing with an alarming intensity. This can’t be good…  
\--  
It had rained overnight. The air was thick with the earthen smell of it, and Casey breathed deep and she felt invigorated. There was nothing quite so good as the smell of an autumn rain, she decided. The phantom shadows from her dreams seemed less threatening in the morning light and a glimmer of optimism managed its way through. Her parents were even letting her make the short walk to the school on her own (after some convincing, of course. If they were going to force her to go to school, they may as well afford her the same privileges of a dutiful school-goer!). Maybe today would be the end of her troubles, she hoped, thoughts turning back to the wishing well. Was there a waiting period for wishes? “Please allow 5 to 7 business days for delivery” or something like that? Hopefully not.   
Casey splashed down the sidewalk puddles. She was counting how many splashes she could get in before she got to the school yard when a bright red maple leaf drifted into the next puddle before her. She paused, faced with a dilemma. There was no way she could splash through a puddle with such a pretty leaf in it, that would be rather mean. But then she’d break her splash-streak. Ultimately, she figured the best course of action would be to pick the leaf up and move it to a different puddle out of the way. Crouching down, she gently scooped the leaf into her hands. A shadow suddenly loomed over her as she did so. Startled, Casey fell backwards, clutching the leaf. It took her a moment to recognize the figure in front of her.  
The woman with the scare-crow grin.  
\--  
Mae and Bea had watched Casey leave down the street until they couldn’t see her anymore. She had insisted she was old enough to walk herself to school, and that she knew the way by heart. They had relented, only because it was such a short trip. Only three blocks away, it was a safe taste of independence. Still, they worried.  
“You think we should’ve let her go?”   
Mae gulped down her coffee and turned to Bea, who was anxiously looking out the window “yeah, of course. It seemed like a pretty big deal to her.”  
“Getting a pet mongoose was also a ‘big deal’ to her,” Bea frowned.   
“Relax, Bea, she’s like what? A block away? If, God forbid, something did go wrong, we’d be there in snap.”  
“Three, actually. But yeah…I guess you’re right.”  
\--  
“Oh my. Are you quite alright, dear?”  
Casey stared up at the long, gaunt face. An uncertain anxiety tugged at her chest. She didn’t want to answer. “It’s…uh, I’m fine,” she mumbled, hurrying to her feet, leaf still tightly clutched. The woman noticed.  
“That’s a lovely maple leaf you’ve got. Such a vibrant shade of red.”  
Casey looked down at her leaf. It really was a pretty red. It was the reason she hadn’t splashed through it’s puddle; she hadn’t wanted to ruin it. A silence hung between them as they appraised the leaf—or was she the one being appraised? The thought was interrupted when the scare-crow woman spoke again.  
“When I met you at the wishing well, you said that you didn’t want to go back to school.”  
Casey furrowed her brow. Had she overheard her wish somehow? She didn’t recall seeing anyone but herself and Uncle CC at the wishing well when she made it. Why then did she know that?  
When she didn’t answer, the woman asked, “that was your wish, was it not?” She spread her hands in a offering gesture, “I can make it so you’d never have to go again.”  
“Are you…the wishing well spirit? Like, a genie or something?”  
A toothy, crooked smile spread across the woman’s face, “Yes. Something like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! almost two months since the last update. i just started grad school, so i haven't had much time to write |D this was a short chapter, but it was fun to write. feels good to write something non-school related lol shout out to anyone still reading this, you're the real mvps


End file.
